How to Tell Your Drum Major You Have A
by aelwyn
Summary: ...Stupendously Large Crush On Him. Sorry, it wouldn't all fit. Rhianna, a senior in high school, has a secret. However, she must confront her fears before her wish will come true.
1. Introduction, and Icky Bugs

How to Tell Your Drum Major You Have a Stupendously Large Crush on Him**

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**Introduction-**

I'm most definitely an introvert: that sweet, quiet, plain brunette, the one who does what the teacher says and that's it, no ifs, ands, or buts. I pay attention, take notes. Some call me a goody-goody, although my grades really aren't all that special. I'm good at band, and maybe French and English, but that's about it.

I'm an upperclassman, a senior, but you might say I don't act it. I don't bully the freshmen, or use my status to get what I want. I'm just there.

Not that I'm ignored or anything. My best friend is Jacqueline. She's in marching band and she plays the clarinet. She's pretty darn good at it too.

Actually, scratch that. _All_ of my friends are in marching band. Yep, you guessed it. I'm a band nerd. I play the alto sax. In 5th grade, my mom dug an ancient case out of the basement and brought it up to the TV room, where I was watching an old rerun.

"Here," she said, "You said you want to be in band next year?"

"Can you believe it?" the TV shrieked across the room as a character stared at their bills, stunned. I picked up the case and fiddled with the clasps until finally I had it open.

And that's where it all began. The whole band thing, I mean.

I'm pretty good at the sax I guess. I'm not extraordinarily good, and I'm not first chair, I'm second. Nothing special, really.

I still use the sax my mom gave me. It had been my uncle's in high school, but somehow we ended up with it, and it sat in my basement for about 10 years. It's full of dents and very tarnished. I say the tarnish gives it character, since no sax tarnishes exactly the same, right? However, it's my marching band sax now, since two years ago I bought a new one. But no one forgets their first ever instrument, and I treat it nicely just the same.

There is one thing though. I have this secret. And I can't let anyone know it, ever. It's... secret.

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**Chapter One-**

It was late August, two days before school began. The Westgate Marching Lions and I sat on the patch of concrete next to the band field, gathered around our band director, Ms. Havens, underneath the sweltering hot sun. It was horribly hot. I sat there, wiping my forehead on my sweaty sleeve, as she rambled on.

"Now, we'll be marching in the Westgate Labor Day Parade, as you all know."

There were a couple cries of disappointment and disgust.

"Stop that." She glared at the offenders. "You should all know well by now that we always march in it. It's a tradition. So, I want you all to be here at noon..."

She droned on and I closed my eyes, retreating to the darker undersides of my eyelids, which was a contrast to the overbright sun. The heat was starting to get to me, and it was making me very sleepy. I could almost feel myself getting tanner, and I suddenly realized I'd forgetten to put on sunblock. Ms. Havens' droning voice went on, and wasn't making it any better either. Not that she's a bad director. She's young, about 26ish, and a great person. But sometimes she talks far too much.

I felt something crawling up my arm, something prickly. It felt like someone's sharpened fingernails.

"Garrett, stop," I said suddenly, without opening my eyes. Garrett was the wacky trombone player who had the odd habit of sharpening his fingernails into points and painting them blood red. Freshmen were easily intimidated by this.

Someone snickered behind me.

I faked a laugh. "Haha, funny. Now stop."

I heard a girl gasp. "Ew!" she shrieked.

Everyone's attention was falling away from Ms. Havens, and I opened my eyes to see why. I was surprised to see everyone staring at me, some laughing, some (mainly the girls) looking revolted. I became keenly aware that the prickly thing on my arm was still there. I looked...

...And let out an embarassingly bloodcurdling scream. Ms. Havens stopped talking and stared in my direction.

"You... ew! Get it off!" I shouted.

Garrett pulled the praying mantis off of my arm and chuckled. "Sorry, Rhianna, but you should have seen the look on your face," he laughed.

Ms. Havens glared at him. "Garrett..." she said dangerously, then seemed to regretfully break into a smile. "Never again."

Garrett never gets in trouble. He's one of those people that can get away with everything because everyone likes him so much, they just can't yell at him.

I looked up and saw Ryan, the drum major, staring at me, as well as nearly everyone else in the band. When I noticed him looking I flushed, suddenly realizing that I'd just embarrassed myself horribly. It was just a bug. Normally I'm not like that. But I suppose it just caught me unawares.

I looked down quickly, and at that moment Ms. Havens went on about the parade. I sighed a quiet sigh of relief as everyone's attention finally turned away from me and life, at least for the moment, went on.


	2. Exhaustion

**Exhaustion **

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Thanks to BassClarinetSweetie, Percussion Chick, Rhapsody, and the Redhead Witch for your reviews!

AN: I had to tweak a few things in this chapter... I realized I've had some serious issues with events skipping around in time. So this has been edited a bit.

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Two days later, the only thing on my mind was bed. A nice, soft bed, with lots of pillows. And most of all, rest.

I unlocked the door to my home, entered, and immediately went to my room and collapsed on my bed, not bothering to take my shoes off. The window was open, tempting in a small breeze, and I could hear one neighbor puttering around his flowerbeds, and another cutting his lawn. Leaves were rustling in the wind, a sign of autumn to come.

I sighed. All of this nature I'd always taken for granted. And here it was, the same it had even been. I was, for some reason, glad for that.

I had just completed the first day of school. After a summer of relaxation, sitting in the stifling classrooms all day felt foreign and I knew it would be several weeks before I settled into my new schedule completely. Learning about angles and metaphors was not very high on my list, I had to admit.

Me, I was just relieved to be back home. Although the nature was a nice added bonus.

I sighed as a thought hit me suddenly. Band practice. Today. At 4:00, which was in a half hour.

"Aw, great," I muttered. Normally I would have been thrilled, butschool had my brain fried, and I desired nothing but a tall glass of lemonade, a shade tree, and a few hours to myself.

The phone rang, startling me out of my rest, and I rolled out of bed and grabbed the phone from my desk.

"Hey, it's Jackie," it said.

"Hey," I sighed tiredly.

"You sound horrible."

"Yeah. I swear I nearly went insane in there."

"Well, at least it's over with… from here on out, it just becomes routine. Hey, how'd you do, anyway?"

"Okay."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"You going to be at practice today?"

I groaned. "I guess so. I have no choice."

"Yeah... well, I was just calling to see how everything went. I suppose I'll see you in fifteen?"

"Right."

We hung up, and I shuffled across the room, found a hairbrush, and began to brush my auburn hair, noting the dark circles underneath my eyes. I frowned, and found myself worrying what Ryan would think of them.

At this thought I dropped the hairbrush in shock. Ryan? Since when did I care what he thought?

Shaking my head, I gathered up my belongings and left my house, sighing resignedly. After unlocking my car, an old, rather beat-up red Honda Accord, I tossed it all in the back. Most kids at my school have nice cars their parents bought them. I worked for mine, and even though it's not the best, I'm proud of it all the same.

I was just turning on to the road off of my street when I realized I'd forgotten my drill chart.  
I cursed and did a u-turn, hoping nobody was watching, and sped back home. Leaving the car in idle, I jumped out and let myself inside, heading straight to the kitchen, where I'd seen it last.

"Where are you?" I muttered distractedly, shuffling through the papers on the counter. It seemed to have mysteriously disappeared, right when I needed it the most.

I glanced at the clock, which read 3:49. If I didn't leave for school now, I'd be late. I looked around the room desperately, hoping for some sort of miracle. A flash of yellow caught my eye, and I saw it, hidden in shadow beneath the kitchen table. I grabbed it and raced out of my house, and leaped back into the car, the door still open. After shutting it, I took off for school.

Please, cops, don't notice me, I thought desperately. Normally I didn't speed, but if I didn't, I would be late, and I didn't want to run a lap or do push-ups for it.

I made a right, and then I was on the school's road. Not much farther. I glanced at the clock again, mentally willing the time to slow down.

3:57. I didn't have much time.


	3. Sectionals

**Sectionals**

Sorry about not updating very quickly. I got busy with finals and all. But school's over now, and band hasn't begun yet, so I have plenty of time (ish) to write! Yay! Thanks to all for the reviews. I honestly wasn't expecting so many on only two chapters. But that's a good thing :D

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At 4:00 exactly I ducked in the door to the band room, moments before Ms. Havens pulled it shut. 

"Just in time," she said, looking at me in surprise as I dashed inside, heading for my locker. I pulled my alto sax case out and collapsed down on the floor with the rest of the band. As Ms. Havens talked to the section leaders at the front of the room to explain today's plan, I took my sax out of my case and grabbed a reed, putting it in my mouth distractedly as I noticed that at the group of section leaders at the front, Steven, the alto sax leader, was missing.

Crap, I thought. Whenever a section leader is absent, his or her section is usually shuffled off to join with another. In my section's case, we go off with the flutes. Not that there's anything wrong with the flutes. It's just... well, they're _flutes_. They tend to be a _little_ hyperactive. (A/N: -cough- Heheheh... Yes, I'm a flutist. I couldn't help but be reminded of my own section when I wrote this. Aww, I love them -hugs-)

However, Linda Friedman, the flute's leader, didn't seem to be heading our way. She was gathering up her own section. Rather, it was Ryan who was walking over to us.

Double crap, I thought. We get the drum major today. Although something about that thought felt different, I wasn't quite sure what.

"Right," he began as he stopped and eyed us all, "I'll be directing you all in sectionals today. I'm not a saxophone player so don't expect me to know any fingerings or anything." He grinned at us all and began leading us to the choir room where we would practice. I stood there in shock for a moment, then collected my wits and trotted off after the group.

Fifteen minutes later, we'd played through our warm-ups and scales and were proceeding on to play our opening piece.

"No, no," Ryan was saying to us, "That's a dotted eighth note and a sixteenth note. You're playing it so lazily, like a triplet. The sixteenth note should be much shorter."

I, however, wasn't taking in what he was saying. I was instead looking ahead in the music, to the part we hadn't played yet. The part with five flats. I fingered silently through the first ten measures.

"Rhianna?" I jumped and looked up wildly.

"Would you play it for us? You're the only one who has it right."

I stared at Ryan. "Wait... what? Where?"

"Measures 56 through 60."

Acutely aware that I was turning bright red, I began to play. It went smoothly, and when I finished, I glanced up at Ryan, dreading what I would read on his face. He caught my eye and I turned even redder. _Triple_ crap, I thought, mortified.

"That was good!" After glancing at me one more time, he turned to the rest of the group and instructed them some more, reminding them to play like me.

All _I_ wanted, though, was to sink into a hole in the ground. Sure, it went fine, but... it was embarrassing. Yet I was insanely proud. Somehow. And I was scared to ask myself why.


	4. Denial

**Denial**

Sectionals usually lasted about an hour, followed by marching practice. Looking at my watch, I saw that we still had about a half hour of sectionals to go. A half hour in which to potentially embarrass myself for life.

After my 'example' incident, everything went normally until the closer. During the second to last measure, I hit the high C# then squeaked loudly. As soon as the piece was over, I quickly fibbed, "Sorry, I need a new reed." Ryan, a clarinet player, looked at me suspiciously.

"Uh... yeah," I added randomly, and I mentally hit myself inside. Stop being a dork!

"Rhianna, I have a reed you can have," volunteered a sophomore, Carrie, "I haven't used it yet."

Actually my reed was just fine. I wasn't quite sure what had caused me to lose control.

"No... it's fine. Thanks. I was just going to buy more after practice today."

"Oh."

Sectionals ended after that. After grabbing my sunglasses and meeting up with Jackie, we left the band room and headed out to the field.

"Rhianna, you're really quiet," she commented as we stepped into the grass. I sneezed.

"Just thinking," I said quickly.

"Really." Jackie gave me a short look, then shook her head. "You're such a dork sometimes, you know that?" she laughed.

"You only just figured that out?" I asked, cracking a grin.

In all truth, though, I had been thinking. Did I like Ryan? Why? No... I couldn't. Of course I didn't. And if I did, I would never admit it, not in a million years.

Wait. So did I like him?

I was scared to think on that topic anymore, but it didn't matter, because we'd reached the field.

"Opener, set one!" Ms. Havens shouted, "Run!"

As was usual, everyone was ignoring her and ambling to their spots at their own paces. I found mine and grinned at Jackie, who was set about ten feet away.

"Ready, airhead?" she called.

"Never!" I replied, just before Ryan called us to attention.

"BAND A-TEN HUT!" he shouted, and we all snapped into position, motionless.

After the snare captain, Tim, tapped us off, the show began. Our show was one of the typical, "Yay! USA!" type shows, with the shocking (or not) title, America. It had several patriotic pieces, as well as a moving one about September 11th.

I do not have a crush on Ryan, I found myself thinking the whole time. I do not have a crush on Ryan.

But the more I denied it, it seemed, the more I realized the truth.


	5. Last First Game

**Last First Game**

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Thanks to all the reviewers! It was because of all the support I had on this that I decided to continue it, nearly a year later. Here's a longer chapter :)

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The first game of the season neared and we all grew anxious, particularly the freshmen. Rumors created purely for the purpose of intimidating our newest members spread, including the ever-so-popular "what really goes on during third quarter". It has remained a tradition in our band for all second-year and up band members to do this. While it sounds like a low thing, it ensures that all the freshmen, the following year as sophomores, would have something to laugh about.

I was frightened as well, not by the rumors as this was my fourth year going through this, but by the fact that this would be my last first game. Now that summer had closed and school had begun, I had to face the news: all this would soon be over.

Jackie and I met at Hardee's before the game, grabbed some food, and arrived in the band room, grinning as we watched the freshmen mill around, looking very nervous. A petite girl with dirty-blonde hair approached us, clutching a flute and wearing an appearance of utter despair.

"Are the brownies really that bad? Garrett told me that at third quarter, they give you brownies but they're not really brownies, that's code for freshman initiation, and it's really awful, he wouldn't tell me exactly what the brownies are but it has to be something bad, right?" she blabbered at a half-whisper, eyes wide.

Well, she was half there. I, unfortunately, am never good at this – either I get suckered into feeling sorry for the freshmen and telling them the truth too early, or I giggle uncontrollably.

"I'll leave you to this," I told Jackie, and walked off, resisting smiling until I arrived at my locker. The freshmen certainly looked scared (and gullible), but they didn't have much longer to worry; at half time, before we took the field, the seniors would explain everything. A mean prank, yes, but we had all been through it, and next year they would do the same.

As I unlocked my locker and pulled my saxophone case out, I heard the sound of someone else's combination lock turning. Looking to my right I saw Ryan open his locker and stow his car keys and other paraphernalia inside. As if he sensed me watching, he looked up. There was a sad look about him.

"Uh... hey," I said. I could sense myself becoming redder.

"Hey," he replied, "How many freshmen have you spoken with?"

Time seemed to be moving slower than usual. It seemed every word he spoke had taken forever, and I could not take my eyes off his gaze.

"None actually." I sounded breathless. "I just got there – I mean, here." He had extremely gorgeous green eyes.

"A few moments ago I had Craig, that one trumpet player – you know who I'm talking about? He asked me if there was any way he could get ahold of some badger repellant." Ryan laughed. "I have no idea what he was on about."

I found myself laughing loudly, joining in with him. "Yeah – badger repellant. Wow." I still had not dropped his gaze. "What did you say?"

"I told him to find Garrett, he's always good at making these things up."

"I'm no good at them. I'm an awful liar."

Ryan smiled. He was very tall. "Me too."

As we looked at each other a whistle went off from the other side of the room. We both jumped and looked at the source of the noise. Ms. Havens stood outside her office door, clutching the whistle.

"Band! You have fifteen minutes to get into your uniforms, then be back here to warm up! We march out in forty minutes! Twenty push-ups for every minute you're late!"

At that the band members took off, hauling their red and white uniforms out of the uniform room and shouting to one another. It was chaos as usual. I looked back but Ryan was gone, disappeared into the mess.

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An hour later we were all sitting in the stands, excited and eager for half-time. The game had just begun. Some members of the drumline were cheering the football team on, but the rest of us were absorbed in our own conversations.

It was a very nice night, slightly cooler than normal but perfect for our heavy wool uniforms. Jackie, however, seemed rather red and was smiling a bit more than was normal.

"I have something to tell you," she whispered, "But you can't tell anybody – yet."

"Hmmm?"

"Right before warm-ups, Bradley asked me to Homecoming!"

Bradley was the trumpet section leader, coveted by many of the female members of the band. He moved here from California freshman year, and still appeared that way: tall, blonde, naturally tan, with the "fresh from the beach" look going for him all year.

I squealed girlishly. "No way! Are you serious?"

"Of course!" So that was why she looked so pleased with herself.

"I'm so happy for you!" I really was, but it made me realize how lonely I was going to feel at Homecoming without a date. Of course, there were still several weeks to go, but I wasn't feeling optimistic. I'd never gone to Homecoming with a guy before, and I was not seeing that change anytime soon. It also made me realize that I had yet to buy a dress.

"We need to go dress shopping," I said, "Tomorrow."

"Definitely, I'm so excited…" Jackie flushed.

"You should get a green dress, you'd look good in green…"

The topic of Homecoming carried us all the way until Ms. Havens signaled us all to our individual sections to begin our final warm-up before halftime. The brass, woodwinds, drumline, pit, and auxiliaries all usually warmed up separately, then met together a few moments before the end of second quarter to play the beginning measures of our opener.

Doing this always gave me such an adrenaline rush. There's something about the crisp night air, and playing as an ensemble, and knowing you're about to go out onto the field that simply does not compare to anything you can do. I found myself grinning in the excitement. This was the first time the public was going to see our show.

Catching Jackie and Bradley looking at each other, I choked back a laugh. They were actually both very similar. Both were section leaders, both were gigantic band geeks…

What if Ryan asked me to Homecoming? What would I say?

You'd say yes, you idiot, I told myself.

I looked in his direction but he was busy talking to Ms. Havens about tempo, his brown hair slightly flattened from his shako he had been wearing earlier.

I grinned in spite of myself, and shortly after, warm-ups began and ended. Solemnly we marched to the field and situated ourselves at the end zone. Ryan called us to parade rest and the visitor band took the field. I caught his eye and looked away quickly.

Whispers were flying; the freshmen were learning the truth. Sighs of relief and a few muffled shouts of anger sounded. Jackie was still blushing, and I was rather red as well… for a similar and yet very different reason.


	6. What One Might Consider Traumatizing

**How to Tell Your Drum Major You Have a Stupendously Large Crush on Him  
****Chapter 6: _What One Might Consider Traumatizing_**

A/N: I finally have the plot of this planned out. It's sad it took so long… I mean, I've known how I've wanted this to end, and the general gist of some of the upcoming events and their effects on the characters… but what these "events" might be, I had no clue until recently. So... what that means for y'all is that you can expect quicker chapter updates since I'll spend less time thinking and more time writing. Yay!

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From my point of view, our half-time show went passably well. No one can expect to do perfect at the first game of the season, and with that in consideration, we weren't that bad. From that standpoint I began to look forward to the competitions to come, sure we could sweep a few awards, impress a few audiences. It was my senior year. It was going to be good, and nothing was going to stop that. 

The football team won with the score of 21-14, and with that and the band's performance on the field in mind, we were all in good spirits as we left the stadium. From behind me came the drum cadence, and beyond that the cheers of the football fans. The band was dutifully silent, in step with the steady tempo set by the drummers.

As we approached the school and left behind the crowds, the sound of crickets and frogs overwhelmed us. The moon was full and the sky was cloudless. It was a beautiful night. Ryan called us to at ease, and I couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight subtly defined his cheekbones…

Oh no. I was not going to let myself think that. As that thought came about I began turning redder and redder, feeling shocked and yet pleased.

I was suddenly thankful no one could read my mind.

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Before the night was over Ms. Havens reminded us of the Labor Day parade that Monday. 

"You have all received a handout and heard this about fifty-six times, but I find myself _every_ year having students ask questions at the last moment. So! What time do you need to be here at school -- for those of you who need to pick up large instruments, that is?"

The band was silent.

"Three?" someone tried hesitantly.

"Valiant guess, but it's noon. The janitors will only be here to unlock the school that morning… it's their holiday too. If you arrive past one, they'll be gone and it's tough luck. So be here on time! Remember, the parade begins at six that evening. We will all meet in front of the police station on Main Street at 5:30… is that clear?"

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Labor Day dawned unseasonably hot and humid. As my mother jacked up the air conditioning I went and took a cold shower, thinking dryly that it with the parade that evening, I'd only have a few hours to feel clean. 

I'd taken my saxophone home Friday night so I had no need to get to school at 12:00. Instead I sat at home, dreading the moment I'd have to go outside in the heat.

The band grudgingly swept into parade block that evening and stepped off at 6:01. During the rests in our patriotic number, I wondered idly about more than the temperature. Fine – I admit it. By that time, I had to acknowledge that I certainly felt something for Ryan.

That awkward conversation by the lockers… did it mean anything? Of course not, it was just talking. Right? I didn't know what to think of it. It was rather random when it came right down to it.

I watched a freshman ahead of me struggle with staying in step while guzzling from a water bottle. The band moms were passing them around, and when I received one, the water disappeared quickly.

From the side of the street came an obnoxious voice. "This one time, at band camp!" It wasn't a preposition, it was a statement.

"What happened in that movie doesn't even _compare_ to our band camp!" someone muttered behind me. Everyone within earshot sniggered as the kid at the sideline stepped backwards, looking revolted.

Score one for the band, I thought.

As we wearily approached the end, the night cooled and the sun had begun to set. The heat was melting away. I felt like I was melting as well.

At the end Ms. Havens set us free and everyone took off in different directions.

"Hey, does anybody want to go see the fireworks with us?" Jackie called. Bradley was standing beside her and I hesitated, not wanting to feel like a third wheel.

She spotted me. "You're coming, you don't get a choice!" Bradley laughed. Very loudly.

I love Jacqueline as a friend, but… I had to admit, this was going to be a long night unless something changed.

But something did change.

"I'll come with you," a voice said behind me, "I've got nothing better to do." I turned and stared. It was Ryan.

From there we set off over a grassy hill to the field where the fireworks were being set off. Bradley said something to Jackie and she giggled madly. Ryan and I shared a glance. We were in this unfortunate situation together.

The field was populated with people of all ages. There were young families as well as older couples, and some teenagers as well. The first fireworks had already begun and a toddler began crying loudly.

"Well," Bradley gestured widely, "Where do we sit?"

I looked around and picked a spot nearly. "Let's go sit by those trees… my back is sore, I need to lean against something."

We all agreed and predictably, Jackie and Bradley took a tree to themselves. Feeling obscenely awkward, I took the tree next to them and Ryan settled down next to me.

"Now, don't you two start making out…" I warned.

Jackie and Bradley stopped in the middle of their conversation, both turning red, casting shifty grins at one another. She turned around and gave me a look that said plainly, You are dead – later. But a few seconds later they started back up where they left off.

"This is going to be awkward," I muttered. Ryan laughed, and I suddenly became aware of his arm against my arm.

I will not blush. I will not blush, I thought furiously.

"So uh…" he began bravely, "How were your first two days of school?"

I responded and gradually I noticed the ice being broken. It is extremely easy to talk to him, I found myself thinking. Our conversations carried us into dusk, the fireworks screaming overhead. The topics we discussed ranged wildly, beginning with neutral topics such as school and (I shudder to say this) the weather, and becoming more and more casual and relaxed. I didn't realize we'd been talking so long until my cell phone rang unexpectedly.

"Hello?" I answered it.

"Rhianna. Where are you?" It was my mother. "Wasn't the parade supposed to be done over an hour ago?"

"I'm at the fireworks, Mom."

"Oh. Well… I need you to come home and watch Peter while I run a few errands." Peter was my five-year old brother, an enthusiastic yet clumsy boy.

I sighed, but then realized I should probably stay on her good side. I didn't have the money for a Homecoming dress, and was most likely going to need to borrow from her. "Fine. I'll be back in a little bit."

We hung up and I realized the fireworks were ending as well.

"That worked out nicely," I commented.Ryan stood up and offered me a hand. I took it and he pulled me up too, so that I was suddenly standing, looking into his eyes, much closer than I thought was decent for 'just friends'. "Thanks," I said breathlessly.

"No problem."

Meanwhile Bradley and Jackie were doing some eye-gazing of their own. "No, just call me Brad," he was saying.

I had to turn around to smother a laugh.

"I had my dad park my car up on the other side of the woods," Ryan said, "I can give you all a ride to your cars at the police station if you want."

"That would be nice," responded Jackie.

"Sure," I said.

"Why not," agreed 'Brad'.

We all began heading towards the woods which divided the field from the road on the other side. It had served as a shortcut for the lazy for many years, and a small dirt pathwound throughit.

"That was fun," Jackie giggled. She and Bradley fell into step behind Ryan and I.

Upon entering the forest the noise of the crowd of people faded and the crickets took over, with the occasional _bang_ of leftover fireworks sounding above us. It seemed rather dark. Ryan suddenly drew a deep breath. "Well, uh, Rhianna," he began, "I had fun tonight, and um… I was wondering… do you have a date for Homecoming?"

I drew a sharp breath and suddenly forgot about everything, everything but Ryan and I. The way he walked, matching stride with me, the way his face suddenly seemed to have gained some scarlet in the waning light, the way he seemed to be holding his breath…

A sharp crack resounded from somewhere in front of us. A final firecracker, I thought, except there was no _wheeee_ of sound, no burst of light…

Whatever it was, it woke me from my brief reverie.

"No," I replied, "I don't."

He released the breath he'd been holding. "Do you – can you – would you –"

As he fumbled for words I watched the ground moving toward us, noticing a large log lying on the path before us. As we approached it I realized it wasn't a log after all, it was far too lumpy, and seemed to be wearing clothes…

I stopped suddenly and let out a high-pitched scream. Not wanting to see it anymore, I hastily stepped backwards, tripped over a tree root and fell.

Ryan caught me before I hit the ground, but not before I got a full glimpse of what was on the path ahead.

A man lay there, bleeding from the head.


	7. Things Are Never As Easy As They Seem

Ch. 7 – Things Are Never As Easy As They Seem

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I remember little from that scene in the forest. It's not a case of amnesia, no. It's more because I simply don't want to remember... I can be very stubborn. What I do remember, however, is Ryan. The way he kept a hold on me as he made a call on his cell phone to the police station. The way, even though he was blanching himself, he kept asking me if I was all right. The way he held me against him until we made it to his car, as he had deemed me unfit for driving myself home. 

"Not in this state, you're not," he said, his voice shaking slightly. I protested at first but then after having my mind flash me an image of that horrible scene, I decided he was right.

He opened the car door for me then let himself in on the other side. Neither of us spoke; I simply stared at the windshield wipers, which were beating a steady rhythm due to the sudden appearance of rain, in shock. There were simply no words to express what I was feeling, which was seemingly about twenty-four emotions at once.

I had calmed down; I was no longer sobbing hysterically into Ryan's shirt. Looking out of the side of my eye, I saw a wet mark where I'd done so. I squirmed down into my seat and fixated on the rain outside. Every time I saw a large dark shape I jumped slightly. Exactly how safe were we now, with a murderer on the loose?

Tomorrow the four of us had an interview at the police station. I was not looking forward to it, but if it meant I'd be rid of this stupid new fear I'd developed, I'd do it gladly.

He pulled into my driveway and surprised me when he turned his car off. I'd assumed he was going to drop me off and leave, but he followed me to my door.

As we stood on my front porch I scrambled for something to say. "Well... I, uh... thanks for the ride."

"No problem... you needed it. There's no way you could have driven home."

I didn't know what to say to that. Even though he was right, I would have felt foolish agreeing considering just fifteen minutes before I'd been protesting it vehemently.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. It tickled. "Yeah... fine. Just fine..." I trailed off and suddenly felt tears well up in my eyes. Not wanting him to see, I glanced down quickly, seemingly intent on studying my shoelaces. Although, then again, it wasn't like he hadn't seen me cry already... "No!" I said suddenly, and at that moment I succumbed to the first impulse I had and threw myself at him in a hug.

Now I'm not an impulsive person at all, so that was quite a move for me. Usually I'll need to sit and contemplate before even daring to make a move like that. I'll just go ahead and blame it on all the pent-up emotions of the night. Obviously there were quite a few.

He hugged back, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his chest. We stood there, rocking slightly, for what felt like forever. I wanted him. I knew it.

I felt his hand smooth back my hair and I looked up into his vividly green eyes.

"Ryan..."

He moved his head closer, closer, closer still... time was standing still; my mind flashed me a feeble warning of the murderer still at large, with us simply standing on my front porch exposed, but there was no time for that thought, not now…

With a screech, the doorknob turned and the porch was flooded with light. Ryan and I jumped apart suddenly as if one or the other was covered in needles. My mother stood in the doorway, framed ominously by the lamplight behind her. Her eyes flicked toward Ryan with curiosity but then went back to me.

"Where on earth have you been? It's too late for me to run my errands now! Everything's closed!"

Ryan jumped to my rescue. "Mrs. Metzger, there was a, uh, situation after the fireworks. Someone was shot... we had to talk to the police--"

My mother looked at him with sudden fear. "I heard on the radio -- I wasn't really paying attention, I didn't even think that it occurred where you were... would you like to come in?"

"No, I should probably get home... thanks though." He looked at me then looked down, blushing.

"Um -- thanks for the ride," I said, even though I'd already said it just moments before. He nodded before taking off down the walkway toward his car, shuffling his feet slightly.

Hoping my mother didn't notice my flushing face and teary eyes, I mumbled that I needed some sleep and left her standing in the front hall, a very worried and confused look on her face.

After shutting my bedroom door and collapsing on my bed, my first thought was to call Jackie. We honestly hadn't any time to talk that evening, what with Brad, Ryan, and the scene in the forest.

Before I could roll out of bed and find my phone, the weight of the day dropped on me and I fell asleep.

* * *

I woke the next morning to a small but very insistent hand poking my shoulder. 

"Rhianna! Rhianna!"

I muttered something about needing more sleep.

"Rhianna! You have to go to school!" the voice continued.

At that moment something in my mind clicked. It was Tuesday! Panicking, I sat up quickly and took a glance at my alarm clock, which read 7:25 am. With the pandemonium last night, I'd forgotten to set it for my usual time of 6:00.

"Are you getting up?" the voice enquired and I looked down at Peter.

"Yeah… thanks," I said.

He smiled and ran out of my room, clutching a toy. I smiled wryly, remembering the days when I'd been excited to go to school too.

I'd expected to feel that familiar sinking feeling in my stomach at the promise of another long day of trigonometric angles, the Bill of Rights, and "analyses of literature" (my English teacher's preferred way of saying "book reports"). But I felt something quite different: anticipation. Ryan would be there. I would see him in concert band; in fact he was quite visible from my seat in the saxophone section. Maybe we could talk about last night – _yes, that's it,_ I thought. _We'll talk about last night._ It seemed so easy, yet I had no idea what I'd say.

I jumped out of bed and began pulling clothes out of my closet. So what if I was a bit late… at least I'd look good.

I was on the verge of laughing when I realized how scandalous I would have found that thought just a mere year ago. Things were changing.

* * *

That afternoon I walked into the band room, glancing around shyly. At first I didn't see Ryan, but then I noticed him in a section of the room, surrounded by his usual clarinet cronies (A/N: hahaha…). Approaching him while he was with others was the last thing on my mind. Disappointed, I got my saxophone out of my locker and took my seat in the band. 

Ms. Havens had a new piece music passed out on everyone's stands. I glanced at it distractedly as I put a reed in my mouth and began taking my instrument out of my case.

A few moments later we were all called to our seats and Ryan took his in the first clarinets. I caught his eye and he flushed so deeply his stand partner gave him an odd look.

"You sick or something?"

Ryan shook his head. "No…" But he didn't elaborate, and his stand partner shrugged.

Band flew by and Ms. Havens dismissed us. I hastily put my instrument away and again glanced around, looking for Ryan. When I saw him about ten feet away, staring at the wall with his back to me, clarinet case in hand, I jumped slightly. For once he was alone, and I had my opportunity…

Seconds flew by, and I paused there, my mouth suddenly extremely dry…

As I made my move toward him the bell rang. Ryan walked out of the room and I was left standing there, dumbfounded.

I was officially the queen of bad coincidences.


End file.
